


Visage

by RotwangRevived



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Smut, Vault fic, and the aftereffects of said smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:57:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RotwangRevived/pseuds/RotwangRevived
Summary: One of the Doctor's gifts does not  have its intended effect.





	Visage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [D_f_m22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_f_m22/gifts).



> This work is inspired by some of the random comment conversations that I had with D_f_m22 , who is the expert of the vault fic.
> 
> I am around 99% sure that I am not going to write another Vault fic, but you can never say never. Except for eating mayonnaise. That shit is pure evil.
> 
> Oh, and don't hesitate to say hi. I just have the habit of analyzing shit to death.

The Doctor felt his muscles tense as the Vault doors slid open, the familiar tension as he put barriers around the vulnerable points of his mind. Even though she had not tried that particular style of attack in the past few months there was a chance that Missy would choose today to use her still formidable telepathic abilities. The Doctor shifted the bag that he was carrying to his left hand as he entered the Vault.

Missy turned to watch him enter. She was leaning forward in a chair, her chin resting on her hand. Missy wore his black hoodie, the dark fabric obscuring her delicate frame. In one of her more needy moods she had taken to it and the Doctor could not bring himself to take it from her and since then he had rarely seen her not wearing it.

"My dear Doctor, what is the occasion?" she said, as she studied his appearance. Her eyes lingered on the bag in his hand.

"Just a few gifts, some things that I thought you would enjoy," he said. Her reaction was almost instantaneous as her back straightened and her eyes widened in excitement.

"I am going to turn of the containment field," the Doctor said, and Missy nodded. It was one of their rituals; there were days when she preferred the relative security of the barrier. 

She stood and took a few steps towards the Doctor as he deactivated the containment field. Missy waited for the Doctor to join her and could barely contain her excitement when she took the bag from him. She sat at the head of the bed and put the bag in front of her. She waited for the Doctor to sit at the foot of the bed before she reached into the bag.

Missy took a thin rectangular box out of the bag. She laughed softly as she slid the eyeshadow palette out of the box, its smooth white surface soft against her fingers. Missy lifted the lid revealing an assortment of purples and blues, some glistening in the light and others matte. She dipped a finger into a silver on the right edge and ran the soft powder on the top of her other hand. It shown brilliantly against her skin, shimmering in the light like an expensive piece of jewelery.

"There are brushes in there," the Doctor said and he watched Missy dip her fingers in different colors. She looked up as she rubbed her fingers on her sleeve, the shimmering powders a stark contrast to the dark fabric. 

"I haven't gotten there yet. Aren't you always going on about taking pleasure in the beauty of the universe?" she said, her voice a purr for her last few words. Missy put the eyeshadow back in the bag and grabbed the bag as she stood up. "I will go enjoy these away from a certain, shall we say, impatient presence," She said as she turned away from him and walked to the bathroom.

***

Missy stared in the mirror as she patted the metallic silver powder in the inner corner of her eye. The silver stood out against the deep purples that comprised the rest of her eye makeup. She slid a black eyeliner along her lower lash line, the dark color causing her blue eyes to seem to glow. Missy let the corners of her lips to smile, then ran a crimson lipstick along them. 

She undid her dark hair and ran her fingers through it. Missy loosened her curls and let them fall in a tangle around her bare shoulders. She looked at the results; it was the same face that watched as worlds fell and burned, her lips a blood red smirk as the ashes and embers floated at the hell she had wrought. And yet now she could barely contain the tremble in her hands or the tears that threatened to wash the fragile powders of her mask away.

***

The Doctor reclined in the plush chair looking to some sketches that Missy left on the table. His finger traced the gossamer thin lines of ink, swirls that turned into words and images of feelings and other times. In all of them there was a faint sense of longing, of trying to find a way back to a time and place that had long since been lost. 

He felt a pair of arms reach around his chest and a soft breath on his neck as Missy purred in his ear. He grabbed her hands as she began to nibble his ear. He shuddered as she licked the rim of his ear, running her tongue to the skin of his neck. He could hear a faint growl as she ran her lips on his sensitive skin. 

Missy stood, trailing her finger through his hair as she walked to stand in front of him. She noticed his eyes widen as he looked at what she was wearing. It was a black silk dress that came down just to the start of her legs and clung to her slim body. His brow furrowed as she sat in his lap. Missy put her hand on his cheek and turned his head to face her.

The Doctor stood up suddenly and Missy slid to the floor. She knelt on the floor, her tangled hair hiding her face. The Doctor bent over and tilted her head up, his hands tangled in her dark hair. She stared into his eyes. Missy's eyes were widened, and in them the Doctor could see the same sense of desperation, the sense of starting to fall and hoping that someone would catch her, that he saw that day in the graveyard. He remembered the fear in her voice as she begged him to take care of her, and the pang of guilt when he laughed at her and realized that her plea was sincere. "I am sorry," he said.

He pressed his lips against hers. She gasped as his fingers tightened in her hair and held her against him. Missy sunk her teeth into his lower lip, growling as she nibbled on it. The Doctor tugged at her hair causing her to relent and shoved his tongue in her mouth. He felt her lips tremble as he probed her mouth and slid his tongue over hers.

The Doctor pulled away from her and sat back down in the chair. Missy crawled to him and nestled between his legs. She met his eyes, and he could see the animalistic gleam in hers as she started to undo his zipper. He caught her hands in his.

"Is this what you want?" he said. She tilted her head for a second, then nodded. The Doctor released her hands and reached out to stroke her hair as she finished unfastening his zipper. He closed his eyes and leaned back as she slid his cock out of his pants. Missy ran her warm tongue along his length, he trembled as she giggled, her breath cool where she had licked him. He could feel her continue to vibrate as she put his tip into her mouth. 

The Doctor stroked her long hair as she expertly built his state of arousal. He ran a finger over her cheekbone as he mused at the reversal of their usual roles. He spent the majority of their previous encounters on his knees serving his Master, helpless to his touch. The Doctor marveled at this power as he put his hand behind Missy's head and forcing his length down her throat. He felt her gag at his intrusion. She began to struggle when he did not relent, and a twinge of pleasure ran up his cock when she submitted. The Doctor fucked her throat relishing his control as Missy's hands gripped the fabric of his pants.   
The Doctor released his hold when he felt Missy's hands begin to weaken. She gasped for breath as she slid her mouth off of his cock. Her teeth ran along its sensitive skin as she moved away. The Doctor roughly grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. He ran his free hand along her exposed neck, scratching her pale skin with a fingernail. "Teeth, my dear," he said as he stroked her lips with his thumb. Missy opened her mouth and flicked the tip of the Doctor's thumb with her tongue.

The Doctor helped Missy to her feet. He ran his hand behind her back and undid the zipper of her dress. He pulled on it and the dress pooled around her feet. Missy buried her face unto his shirt and he ran his fingertips up and down her spine. Missy moaned, then reached up and grabbed the Doctor's head. She ground her hips against him as she kissed him. He pushed her backwards onto the bed. "Stay there," he murmured into her ear. She nodded as he took a step backwards.

Missy watched as the Doctor unbuttoned his shirt and took it off and throwing it into a tangle on the floor. The Doctor pulled his pants off and they joined his jumble of a shirt. He stepped back to the bed and watched the expression on Missy's face. He wondered if he had that same expression of anticipation tinged with a trace of trepidation during the times that he had waited for the Master to undress and join him. Missy trembled as he pushed her down on the bed. He felt her lips brush against his neck and her legs wrap around his waist. 

He heard her gasp as he entered her. Missy's legs tightened around him as she drew him deeper inside of her. She bit his neck growling as he thrust into him. Her sharp teeth broke his skin and red blood mixed with crimson lipstick. He snarled as the pain mingled with his pleasure. The Doctor pulled away from her. With one hand he grabbed her neck as the other pinched her nipple.

Missy laughed as she felt the pressure on her windpipe and the sharp pain in her nipple. She moved her hand between her legs. The Doctor growled as he batted her hand away with the hand that had been on her breast. He grabbed her wrist and forced her to hold her hand above her head. The Doctor loosened and tightened the hand around her throat as he thrust roughly into her. 

The Doctor watched Missy's face as he fucked her. He watched as she gasped and bit her lower lip, her eyes closed. He wondered if it was the same for her as it was for him when in previous lives when the Master claimed his body. How the Doctor would feel both unbearably exposed and incredibly safe at the same time, when the universe faded away and he surrendered all control. Would she feel as possessed?

He could feel himself lose control when her muscles tightened against him. Missy's bottom lip trembled as she came. She writhed and moaned against him, her hips grinding and drawing him further inside her as he felt her clench his cock. All self control vanished when he could feel her telepathically radiate her pleasure. His body tingled as he came, waves of pleasure spread across his body. He sent these sensations to her, the way that as he continued to thrust into her waves of warmth washed over him. The Doctor's could feel a ghost of Missy's pleasure, the sharp exhilaration as her clitoris clenched and tightened. 

The Doctor could feel his body weaken as faint aftershocks shot down his cock. He pulled out of Missy, and then drew her seemingly fragile body into his arms. He turned so that they were both on their sides. Missy rested her head on his outstretched arm and her eyelids fluttered open. She could barely keep her eyes open as she drew her head closer to his and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Arm pointy, pillow soft," she said as she stifled a yawn. The Doctor helped her to the pillow and wrapped an arm around her as she laid down. She buried her face into his chest and pressed her body against him. The Doctor pulled the covers over them and put his arm back around her waist. 

The Doctor held Missy against him, listening to her breath as it slowed and she fell asleep. He smelled a hint of perfume in her curls as he let his mind wander. He held Missy to him and felt as if one rough move would shatter her. The Doctor had seen her broken, her hands prying at him as the phantoms of her mind haunted her, as they forced her into his care and control. Why now, and not when she was screaming out in madness and in pain at being kept, did the Doctor feel the full burden of her dependence and helplessness (and was it wrong, that on some level, he could understand the Master's motivation in trying to keep the Doctor)?

***

The Doctor woke to the sound of the shower running. He panicked for a second when he did not feel Missy beside him. From the cold on her side of the bed she must have been up for a while. The Doctor pulled the covers off of himself and climbed out of bed.

The Doctor crossed the Vault to the bathroom. He knocked on the door and when there was no response he opened the unlocked door. He had learned fast after a rather unfortunate incident that locks and Missy did not mix well. The Doctor pushed the door open and walked inside.

Missy sat in the end of the tub with the shower curtain pushed open. Her arms were wrapped around her legs and the shower water streamed down her head and body. Her once elaborate eyeshadow ran in streams down her cheeks and even with all of the water the Doctor could tell that Missy's eyes were wet with tears. She bared her teeth at him and wrapped her arms tighter around her legs. 

"Missy, are you all right," the Doctor said, concern filled his voice. He crossed the room and knelt beside the tub next to Missy. He reached out to hold her hand but she pulled away.

"Go away," she said as she glared at him. She scrunched her body against the wall as far away from the Doctor as she could be while still in the hot water. 

"Tell me what is wrong," the Doctor said with equal parts sternness and kindness.

"I said to go away," Missy snarled. She swiped at the Doctor with her hand but he caught her wrist. She tried to get loose but the Doctor did not let go. Her body became limp and the Doctor drew her to him. She sobbed into the crook of his neck as he stroked her hair.

"Please tell me," he said as she shuddered in his arms.

"Get lost," she hissed, "You're just like the rest of them." She pushed weakly against him. 

"Like who?" he said, not letting go of her, "I am not leaving you. I promised I would take care of you."

"Never mind. Just leave me alone. You got what you want," she said, her voice a harsh growl. 

"Got what I- Missy, you mean before. I thought that you did all that because you wanted to. I am so sorry," he said. He allowed his body to tense in anger for a second at those who hurt her. He loosened his grip and Missy's wet body slipped from his arms. She inched back and stared at his face. 

"Then why did you give me the makeup? Why didn't you stop me?" she said, her eyes dry. 

"I thought that it was what you wanted. I just want to take care of you. And every day I am afraid that I will lose myself in it," he said. He put his hand on her shoulder, and was relieved when she rubbed her cheek on it. 

"How long will it be until you lose interest? Every time you leave I am convinced that you will have found something to explore and that you won't come back. And when you return I wonder what I will have to do so that you stay." she said. 

"I will not leave you. Not today, not tomorrow nor in a hundred years. I am, and will always be, yours," he said as he hugged Missy. He had told the Master those words so many times in the haze of afterglow in his arms after being pushed near the brink, and now to the same person as she trembled in his arms.

"I know," she said.

***

The Doctor woke up to the artificial sunlight. Missy was still asleep in his arms, and he could hear her faint heartsbeats. She stirred, then buried her face deeper into the pillow. The Doctor was careful not to disturb her as he listened to her breathing.


End file.
